


Heed The Signs

by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)



Category: Undertale (Video Game), underswap
Genre: (to a fault), A brother trying to be a parent figure is in a tough position, Accidental Neglect, Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Angst, Babybones (Undertale), Bathing/Washing, Big Brother Sans (Undertale), Bittersweet Ending, Brotherly Angst, Caretaking, Chronic Fatigue, Cold, Communication, Don't experiment on your kids, Exhaustion, Fear, Fever, Fever Dreams, First Meetings, Guilt, Help, Hiding Medical Issues, Homelessness, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Dubious Science, Mistakes, Oblivious, Optimism, Panic, Repressed Memories, Seizures, Self-Doubt, Sick Papyrus (Undertale), Sickfic, Trust Issues, Vomiting, positivity, taken in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:37:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24630151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor
Summary: Something is up with Papyrus. Blue is determined to make some headway on their journey to Snowdin and the warning signs go completely over his head.
Relationships: Papyrus & Sans (Undertale)
Comments: 43
Kudos: 105





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Papy: *waving all the signs*  
> Blue: That sign can't stop me because I can't read!

Blue should have seen the signs. No, on the contrary—the signs were abundant, practically a slap to the face, and he had just brushed them aside. When he’d shaken Papyrus awake this morning on the creaky old bench they’d claimed for a night, it wasn’t…particularly _gentle_.

“Good morning, starshine! Up and at 'em! It’s a beautiful day, Papy, and it’s about time to greet it. Let’s not keep it waiting!”

To his surprise, Papyrus curled away from Blue’s prodding hands and shivered. “M’tired…Dun’ wanna walk today…” he whined, rubbing roughly at his eye sockets as he tried to roll over, putting his back to him.

“Hey, now! We don’t want to overstay our welcome, do we? Mweheh, if you’re worried about the bench getting lonely, I’m sure another traveler will come to keep it company as soon as we leave! Three is a crowd.”

Though that still didn’t budge him, Blue’s smile didn’t budge either. Optimism was key to making their long, arduous journey bearable. He needed to make the best of this for the both of them.

“Papy, do you remember the echo flowers yesterday?” he tried hopefully, clasping his shoulder. “I’ll bet there are plenty of others up ahead with riveting things to say to us! What do you think?”

“Nnnh…”

“Well, they’ve definitely got better things to say than that!” Taking initiative, he scooped Papyrus up, ignoring his keen of resistance as he planted him firmly on his feet. “There, see? Now we just put one foot in front of the other. Sound good?” When Papyrus swayed and listed into him, nuzzling halfheartedly into his shirt, Blue chuckled and put it down to being half-asleep. “Come on, sleepy-skull. Baby bones need exercise!”

It should have worried him—how Papy lagged and leaned on the cavern walls as they made their way, how his eyelights were just a little too bright. When they reached one of the falls, he hissed, rattled and whined them to a standstill. They wasted almost fifteen minutes debating it until Blue, with a calming breath and _utmost_ poise and patience, hiked him up on his back and carried him across. Looking back on it now, it was a mercy that he had.

The water flowing past them was chilly, its roar drowning out the clatter of Papyrus’ bones as he quivered. Blue couldn’t help shuddering a little too, wading on tiptoe so his brother wouldn’t dip too far. He’d grown, he realized about halfway across as Papyrus’ legs bumped his sides. Maybe someday they would be doing this with roles reversed!

Maybe someday they would have a warm, secure home in one secure place and they wouldn’t _have_ to do this.

“We did it!” he exclaimed unnecessarily as they stumbled back onto dry ground. Puddles formed around them as Blue helped Papyrus wring out his tattered shirt. _He needs a jacket_.

 _He needs a lot of things_.

Soul sinking as Papyrus sniffled and shivered, Blue took another breath to muster himself. _Courage and optimism_. “Hey…I’ll bet the faster we walk, the faster our clothes will dry.”

Hopefully they would be dry by the time they arrived in Snowdin. Wet clothes in _that_ kind of cold would be absolute misery no matter how Blue tried to spin it.

It seemed Papyrus had the same thought, though he took an opposite approach: the slower he walked, the more likely they would be dry long, long, _long_ before they ever reached Snowdin. He shuffled, kicked at the floor, stopped to hug himself or rub repetitively at his eye sockets.

 _Make the best of it. Make it an adventure. Make it something fun_. Those were the first ideas Blue had to turn to.

“Brother! Why don’t we play a game to pass the time?” he called as he paused yet again to let Papyrus catch up. “It’s called, um, Name Everything You See! I see…water sausages! Your turn!”

“Mm…grass,” he mumbled, barely looking.

“Crystals on the ceiling!”

“Lily pads.”

They managed to make that work for a while, until Papyrus made a point of repeating the same answer for every step. Blue was exceedingly close to giving in and carrying him for a while longer, only to brighten when he saw the field before them.

“Look, Papy! Now I see the echo flowers!” To his great relief that made him perk up just a little; he took Blue’s hand and let himself be dragged over.

Stopping here meant they still weren’t making headway, but it was what Blue had promised. They spent a few minutes batting at the petals, eavesdropping on old news.

“… _ready to try again, if you are?_ ”

“… _can’t prove anything_.”

“… _What do you remember?_ ”

“… _speaks in hands_.”

“… _two animal runts digging through my trash again!_ ”

Blue tensed at that phrase, his mind already rewinding two nights to their slightly desperate search for dinner. Had they really been that conspicuous? It was meant to be a mission of flawless espionage; the old monster wasn’t supposed to see them!

“Umm…Umm—!” Forcing a grin, he spun around as Papyrus glanced over. “I just thought of something! What did one flower say to the other after telling a joke?” He didn’t wait for an answer, tilting his head with a wink. “I was just _pollen_ your leg!”

If there was anything that could lift Pap’s spirits as a last resort, it was Blue indulging his terrible sense of humor. Sure enough, his eyelights grew big, his mouth fell open and then he was doubled over laughing. As the pun echoed around them, his giggles bubbled over into gasps for breath, then hard coughs, then giggles again.

Was it really that funny? Blue wondered, chuckling sheepishly. It froze in his throat only moments later, soul plummeting into his nonexistent stomach as his little brother promptly crumpled to the ground and burst into tears.

Finally, inexcusably late, all of his internal alarms went off. “Papyrus?!”

These weren’t the silent, subdued tears that Papyrus would wipe away on his sleeves when he thought Sans wouldn’t see; these were deep, wrenching sobs that tore at his core, rocking him forward on his knees. Blue was at his side in seconds.

“What is it?” he demanded. “What is it, what’s wrong?!”

If he answered, it was unintelligible through his cries as he curled in on himself, cradling his head against the echo. Anxiety swelling in him, Blue pulled off one glove, intending to rub circles into his neck and back—

Stars. _Stars_ , was he always this hot to the touch? Dismayed realization sank in just as Pap’s next gasp became a gurgling moan, and a heave of half-formed magical essence was being retched into the grass.

Guilt and horror crawling on his back, Blue sat by until his brother stopped gagging. From there he gathered him up in his arms, all pretenses gone. “Oh, Papyrus…I’m so sorry! I should have realized…W-Why didn’t you tell me?”

Whimpering—in shame or pain, it was uncertain—Papyrus buried his flushed, pinched face against Blue’s shoulder. “Didn’t…want’cha mad at me,” he hiccupped miserably. “M’not sup-p-posed to be slow! K-Keep up so…so we can find home faster…” His quivering grew violent for a moment, his next words a reedy rush. “D-Didn’t wanna get left behind.” His voice cracked; it was the most he’d spoken all day.

Blue’s embrace fell slack, the light draining from his eye sockets. “What? How…How could you think that I would _ever_ …?”

The tears were budding again, wetting his shirt as he forced the words out through coughs. “M’always too t-tired—an’ too slow—an’ c-can’t go as far as you can—an’ can’t help you—an’ can’t g-get up to greet the day when y’want me to—”

“Papyrus…”

“—And I had a bad, awful dream where you went off away from me an’ something got you! They got you an’ I—I was all alone—”

“Brother, look at me.” Blue did his best to compose himself as Papyrus obeyed, though his voice still held a tremor. “I will never, _ever_ leave you behind. No matter how tired you are, no matter how slow, I will _always_ be there to help and protect you. What would I do without you?”

“…Get t-to a home in Snowdin faster.”

That struck with just as much pain as a bone breaking. “Nothing could be home without you, Papy. I’m not going anywhere.”

The echo flowers concurred, spreading the message across the field, softly willing Papyrus to believe it. He didn’t answer, hoarse breaths slowly evening out as Blue scratched soothing fingers against the base of his feverish skull.

“You’re tired,” he whispered, lulling him down. “Rest as long as you need.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this at like four in the morning so it might be incoherent? Regardless I could write another chapter if any of you want one XD What do you think?


	2. Chapter 2

Sprawled still and silent on his side in the damp grass, Blue cradled Papyrus close to his chest to conserve warmth and felt…empty. His mind was bursting with questions, worries, uncertainties, but his soul plodded with some detached, churning ache.

Was he within his right to feel…betrayed? That couldn’t be right. He was the one who had let Papyrus down today. But the very idea that he would leave him behind for _any_ reason…Did Papy really think so badly about him? How could he ever believe that, after everything Blue had done for him?

 _What have I done wrong? I’ve tried to be a good brother, I’ve tried so hard! Doesn’t he remember? Since the day he was born I’ve been feeding him, playing with him, telling him bedtime stories when Dad forgot or just didn’t come home_.

That last part came along unprompted. A knife-like stab of self-consciousness and grief made his eye sockets water. He knew better than to ponder that too closely…If he ever chased thoughts of their father in search of a specific memory, it would all start blurring together, like trying to catch fog in his hands.

The point was that Blue had done his best for Papyrus ever since. He had taken good care of him!

Hadn’t he?

 _Look at him now_ , an irritating, squirming voice in the back of his head reproached. _Ill, exhausted and terrified. Oh, yes, that’s a brother who’s been well cared for_.

_What have I done wrong?_

Papyrus stirred suddenly against him, his next breath hitching into a discordant mewl of discomfort.

“Shh, shhh…it’s alright,” Blue soothed, cupping his skull before he could clack it against the earth. “You see? I haven’t left you, Papy. I’m right here.”

Weak, clumsy fingers dragged at Blue’s shirt, curling into its thin folds for security as Papyrus sighed, let out three raucous coughs and then dropped back off like it had never happened.

Those clinging hands were the first balm to soothe the ache in hours. Blue’s chest felt more open now as he breathed, trying to recenter. _He wants me_. _He needs me_.

 _You failed him_ , that rude voice needled.

 _Yes, but a good brother—a_ great _brother—fixes his mistakes. I shouldn’t make mistakes. I can be even greater, as long as I try, and I’m very great already! Not everyone can keep up with me_.

“ _I’m always too tired_ ,” Papyrus had said. “ _Too slow. Can’t go as far as you can_.”

Perhaps, Blue realized with a start, Papyrus felt he had too much to live up to.

Well…that could be worked on later. Maybe, just this once, being a great brother meant that Blue ought to slow down for him and acknowledge his limits.

“When you’re better, Papy, we’ll do whatever you want,” he promised, nuzzling against the top of Papyrus’ skull. “We can explore the scenic route. I hear it’s magnificent.”

* * *

As soon as Blue startled awake, unsure of when he had dozed off in the first place, he winced, a sore creak rattling through his spine. He wasn’t used to napping so deeply, much less lying in one position for so long. Sighing deeply, he flexed one stiff arm, trying to coax magic back into it. With that flow came renewed feeling which swept away whatever dredges of sleep remained; Papyrus felt scalding against his hand.

“Papy?” Scrambling half-upright to get a better look at him, Blue bit back a gasp.

He wasn’t shivering anymore; on the contrary he was unsettlingly limp and loose, skull sticky and discolored with off-orange beads of sweat. His breaths were wet and thick, rattling as Blue pressed a hand against his ribs.

“Oh, stars, I-I thought—I thought rest would make it better!” he stammered, the echo flowers sharing his alarm as he prodded at him. “Papyrus? Hey, wake up. C-Come on…” A harried not-laugh escaped him. “Up and at ’em, starshine…”

Shouldn’t Waterfall’s cooler temperatures have brought this fever down? How had it worsened so fast? Pap felt as though he had just taken a dip in the Core! Had sleeping in the dank, humid grass and the dew labored his breathing? They had no lungs to suffer but the air was still _important_ —Why hadn’t Blue considered that before?

“Papyrus? Papyrus! Can you hear me, brother?” Dread crawled down his neck and arms as he jostled him more forcefully, more frantically. _This is wrong—He’s too still—Why, why won’t he wake up?!_

_Fix it. Find some way, do something and fix it!_

“S-Stay here!”

Lurching to his feet, Blue sprinted back toward the main path. It wasn’t difficult to locate an inlet of the falls nearby but every second he wasted stumbling in his panic was a beat his soul skipped.

Tearing off his ragged neckerchief, he dunked it in the frigid water, panic crowding his head. What if someone came across Papyrus, unaware and vulnerable, while he was gone? What if they took him somewhere to find help for him and Blue didn’t know where to follow?

_I promised not to leave him!_

“ _I had a bad, awful dream where you went off away from me…They got you an’ I—I was all alone…_ ”

He couldn’t let it happen! Gritting his teeth, he ducked down, violently splashing water into his face to ground himself before streaking back the way he had come.

His brother was still unmoving. Should he be grateful or even more terrified? Dropping to his knees over him, Blue draped the dripping compress over his skull. Within a minute or two the heat was bleeding through the cloth.

“Papyrus…” They had both been sick before—sour stomachs after scavenging something only half-edible, skull colds, magic exhaustion, but it wasn’t the same. Blue had never seen a fever like this; what could he do to combat it?

They had nothing. No doctor, no medicine, no friends, father, home. No one to help.

What if this only grew worse? What if—?

“Papyrus! I promised I wouldn’t leave you behind and that means you can’t leave me behind either! It’s not fair a-and I refuse to let you get away with it! Now you—you wake up this instant! Please!”

It wasn’t that instant or the next. Indeed, it seemed like an eternity passed before a twitch became a faint shudder as Papyrus’ pallid eyelights swam, flickering, into view.

“Bro…?”

Recognition, raspy, slurred, but recognition nonetheless. The wave of relief that crashed over Blue gave him the strength to try for a weak smile. “There you are. There you are …Heh, I’ll admit you scared—I mean, you made me doubt myself for a moment! How could you?”

The words didn’t seem to register. Face twisting, Papyrus nodded away from the touch of the compress and heaved a barking cough. It wracked down his body, seemingly every bone spasming up in a row, and then his mandible started quivering.

“Oh, no. Oh, Papy, don’t cry!”

It was out of his control. Tears bled and were lost in the sweat and water dotting his face, though he didn’t have the strength to weep as fiercely as he had before. (Was it already yesterday?) Feeling slightly ill himself at the sight, Blue mopped at his cheeks with the cloth, ignoring the soft whimpers and flinches he received for it.

“Brother, you’re burning up. I need to get more water for you; I need to keep you cool. Like one of the fish folks, you know? Like me! O-Once you’re as cool as I am, you’ll feel better in no time!” He was rambling. “The stream is just across the path—”

“Nnh…Please…please, dun’ go…”

“I’m not leaving you, I swear, but that means when I lift you, you must hold really tight to me. You understand?” He was already maneuvering support underneath him, wrapping the damp cloth around his neck as he helped him sit up. Papyrus’ arms were searing on contact as he ineptly hung them over Blue’s shoulders. As soon as he was off the ground, he shrank in on himself, audibly gulping down what could have been another cough or a sob.

“Hnhh…hurts… _Sa-a-ns_ …”

He said so little, but Blue heard so much: _Protect me_. _I’m scared. Make it stop. Make it better_. It struck him then with frightening clarity just how _young_ his brother was. This shouldn’t be happening. He should be in a warm bed right now with blankets, food and medicine and everything he asked for; he should have a parent doting and soothing, telling him everything was going to be alright.

_Dad, I don’t know how to do this!_

“Hold on tight to me,” he urged again—pleaded. “I’m going to run.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this chapter just as incoherent as the first? I was writing it just as late at night and somehow still didn't reach the "end" point that I had thought of XD Maybe a third part? Who knows?


	3. Chapter 3

Running was more easily said than done, especially when one was trying to dart over wet, slippery stone with a brother in hand. Blue was naturally light and bouncy on his feet but with Papyrus weighing him down, his strides were so much more jarring and disjointed.

Pap’s loose limbs heaved, clattered and swung like crooked pendulums with every step. Head hanging over Blue’s shoulder, he hissed softly, aching at the rough treatment. It couldn’t be helped.

“I’m sorry, brother, I—ugh—I know it’s hard.” Even as bone grated on bone, rubbing Blue’s neck and shoulders raw, he repeated his instructions more than once. “Don’t let go, now. As tight as you can.” They were just as much for himself as the other; he didn’t want to imagine how poor Papyrus would react if he happened to fall.

_Spine up straight. No weak knees. He really has grown. Ah, that shouldn’t matter! Pain is just pain. You’re the strongest monster he knows! There’s no giving up now._

As they neared the inlet of the stream, Papyrus squeezed his neck, curling tighter around him now than he had the entire jog. Blue barely had time to formulate a potential question before a weak groan became a watery gag and all he could do was freeze as clammy, slimy magical essence spilled down his back.

Oh, _mercies_. Revulsion swept through him in a deep shudder as Papyrus hid his face, slurring out something akin to an apology.

 _Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew. Ghastly. Horrible. Foul. It isn’t his fault. It’s just magic. Don’t think about it. Just pretend it’s not there_.

“D—Don’t be sorry,” Blue managed at last in one breath, surging forward toward the water. “We’re here to wash ourselves anyway! Who, um, who doesn’t wear their cool clothes in the bath?”

That said, he stopped there on the bank's edge rather than wading right in, though the temptation to do the latter just so he could clear away the gunk was mighty. He couldn’t be sure of its depth; he didn’t want to dive in and be taken by surprise by the water closing over his head.

Papyrus put up no resistance as he was eased away from Blue’s chest, sluggishly uncurling. Within seconds Blue had stripped off the stained shirt and drenched it thoroughly, letting the water slough away the mess and carry it who knows where. He still didn’t want to think too hard about putting the shirt back on afterward but for now, that was beside the point. He laid it out on the shoreline.

Papyrus took some more careful finagling but after a minute or two of soft coaxing and thought, Blue was sitting on the bank with Papyrus’ head and shoulders safe in his lap so he wouldn’t be carried away. The rest was submerged, the current flowing across the length of his ribs to his toes.

His teeth started chattering almost instantly. A good sign? Blue wondered, fingers drumming uncertainly. Didn’t that mean that his fever would fall? Stars, he hoped so. In any case it was a relief to watch so much mud and grime that had accumulated on their journey wash free of Pap’s joints. His bones were whitening again.

“How does that feel?” Blue ventured, dipping his fingers to wet them before trailing them gently over his hot skull. “Any better now?”

Feet kicking out almost of their own volition, he trembled, droplets flying. “S-S-Stings,” he choked out, eyelights large and blurred. Though Blue’s face hovering over his was all he could see, he couldn’t seem to pinpoint his features properly. “Needles…”

“I’m sorry?”

“Needles…all over…Oww…” His breaths were coming in stops and starts as he splashed again, fumbling to scratch at his arms and relieve the sensation. “C-Cold…”

“Yes, it’s meant to be! It’s going to help you, as long as you stay put. There aren’t any needles in this stream, not that I can see! Try to stay still, alright?”

“ _Cold_ … _!_ ” he wheedled, drawling out in his distress. “Ow, ow, _oww_ …”

“Aw, Papy, please don’t start crying again! If you keep this up, you’re going to run out of tears!”

To his credit, though he sniffed and whimpered through juddering teeth, no more tears fell. Chest heaving up and down on the surface, creating ripples, he gulped dejectedly. “D-Dad.”

Though only his legs dangled in the water, Blue’s whole frame abruptly chilled. “What?”

“Dad…h-holds my hand…t-through th’ needles.”

Now what was _that_ supposed to mean? Exactly what it sounded like, of course, but what else? Brow furrowed, Blue cautiously reached out to take Papyrus’ right hand into his own. The younger sighed, a fitful thing, and his shivering ran down Blue’s arm.

“I don’t remember Dad with any needles,” he muttered distractedly, but now that Papyrus had gotten what he wanted he didn’t say anything more about it.

That begged a different question: He had been under the impression that Papyrus remembered very little of their father, similarly to Blue’s own struggle—so what could he recall that Blue didn’t?

(A distant image of their obscured, indistinct father carrying Papyrus to the door occurred to him. From the living room Blue had cried after him, angry and hurt at being left out of “Take Your Child to Work Day” yet again. It seemed there were quite a few of those happening lately—not that he would know firsthand, since Dad never let him come along.

“ _I’ll be good, Dad! I can be just as good as him; I’m a big kid! I won’t run and I won’t interrupt you and I’ll sit without bouncing my legs and—and—Please, I really want to go-o-o!_ ”

“ _Your brother is quieter_.” That was the only reasoning he gave, but why was that so important? It didn’t explain anything and since Papyrus was always so exhausted when he came home, he never talked about what they did all day. Those nights, he wouldn’t even give Blue the chance to read a bedtime story, much less ask him to share secrets. He went right to sleep, keeping all of the excitement to himself.

If he was that worn out by the end of it, Blue could only imagine with much disappointment and jealousy how much playtime and fun Papyrus had been treated to.

The people Dad worked with had probably fawned on him all day. Papyrus didn’t even _like_ being the center of attention, not the way Blue did! It wasn’t fair. Once, emboldened by his indignation, he asked Dad if he _ever_ planned to take Sans along. “ _Perhaps, someday_ ” was all he had to bank on.

The image drifted behind his eyes like a dream. Maybe that was all it was from the very beginning.)

“Do you feel any cooler now?” Blue questioned abruptly, pushing himself free of his thoughts. “Do you want to get out?”

Papyrus gave no response to the first question but was his answer to the second was apparent as he jerked, panting and struggling to find purchase on Blue’s bones and the shoreline. 

“Gosh! Take it easy, Papy, or you might pull me in with you!”

“C-C-Cold…Cold, it hurts…”

“Alright, let me help you up here. Can you stand?”

For someone with such an immediate need to escape the pool, Papyrus wasn’t particularly capable. His legs wobbled like twigs underneath him, forcing him to clutch awkwardly at Blue’s shoulders for balance. That was becoming a fast habit, Blue noted as he slid an arm around his back.

Papyrus’ shirt was chilly. The thin fabric had been soaked through, of course, but beneath it he could still detect some strange, sickly warmth radiating from his body. How was that even possible? He didn’t have long to think on it, as Papyrus swayed forward without warning.

“Whoa, whoa, stop!” Blue yelped, rearing back to compensate as he was dragged a few steps forward. “Brother? I didn’t realize you were in such a hurry! Just a moment.” Twisting sideways as best he could, he snatched up his own wet shirt in his free hand. “There. Now we have everything, we can get this show back on the road and keep heading toward—”

 _Wait, now, hang on_. Hadn’t he made a commitment, back when they were resting? He was supposed to let Papyrus have a turn with the decisions. Right.

“What would you like to do, Papy?” he concluded, tilting his head. “We could, um, stay here, play with those echo flowers…or keep going. What do you think?”

At first it seemed as if Papyrus hadn’t even heard him. His eyelights were blacked out as he stared further down the road. It looked like it stretched on forever.

“I’m really…” After a pained hesitation, he lowered his head with a whisper. “I wanna g-go home.” It wasn’t the answer Blue anticipated. As soon as the choice was proffered, he’d expected him to suggest they move right back to the grass and sleep.

“To Snowdin? Are you sure?”

“Mhmm.”

“Well, alright! If you’re feeling up for it, let’s get a move on!”

With his help Papyrus inched tiredly forward, eye sockets empty, teeth clicking and jittering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blue: We could keep making progress *nudge nudge* or do whatever you want, I dunno  
> Papy: Well, you’re making this choice so difficult. What could possibly be the "correct" answer that’ll make you happy?
> 
> Also, a PSA: Don’t follow Blue’s example! He’s a kid so he doesn’t know any better but a cold bath when you have a fever is a pretty bad idea. Shivering raises your body temperature even further, so it’s better for the water to be lukewarm. Of course that doesn't bode well for Papyrus.
> 
> How does this story keep getting longer? The end point keeps dodging me XD


	4. Chapter 4

_Why did I lie to him? Why did I say I wanted to walk? Are we there yet? How much longer? This is taking forever…I’m so tired. Everything hurts, I just want to stop_.

Lying was wrong. That was what his brother always told him and by the looks of it Papyrus’ body agreed; it was doing everything within its power to punish him.

True to Blue’s advice, his bath had been chilling but even with his clothes half-dry he was still shivering. The worse twitches sent crackly jolts of pain through his joints, akin to insect stings, and when he clenched his teeth to stop their clattering his head pounded dreadfully.

 _My skull’s a knock-knock door now_ , he mused dazedly, though it wasn’t as funny without a joke to tell. He couldn’t think of a good one for the life of him.

 _Sick. Sick who? Sick me. But don’t tell Blue_.

He just wanted Blue to be happy. His brother had seemed sincere enough when he offered him the chance to stay but what if Papyrus had taken it and Blue had gotten mad at him? When he was honest about his fears and the idea of being left behind, that had upset him enough; the last thing he wanted was to disappoint him again.

If he disappointed him again, Blue might actually do it. Wasn’t that an awful thought?

“ _I will never, ever leave you behind. No matter how tired you are, no matter how slow, I will always be there to help and protect you_.”

Those words should comfort him; they had at the time but now, through the slogging fog in his mind, they sounded so far away.

What Blue didn’t know when he made that promise—what he still didn’t seem to fully understand—was that Papyrus was _always_ tired. In his soul he knew it wasn’t the “normal” tired. It wasn’t normal to sleep and sleep and sleep and still feel so drowsy, like he had never gone down. It wasn’t normal for his vision to go black and his legs to buckle just because he stood up too fast. It wasn’t normal to feel this weight dragging on him, like he was constantly trying to wade through a mudslide. Was that what it would be like at their new home, with all the snow in their way? The very thought of it stirred anxiety.

Something was wrong with him and nothing was wrong with Blue. His big bro was so _cool_ , running and jumping and climbing and lifting heavy things. All the while he barely gasped for breath. How did he do it?

Jealousy was wrong too. Papyrus hated the sore, mean longing caged in each of his tender bones. He always insisted that he would never hope for bad things for his brother…but in a corner of his mind that would probably never come to light, he wished Sans could know how he felt, even if it was only one day. What if Papyrus was like this forever? He could never live up to Blue’s example, no matter how hard he tried. He could never be that good.

Yet again his nose and eye sockets stung with telltale moisture but perhaps he didn’t have enough magic left over to form real tears, given how much effort the rest of his body was putting forth.

Blue was right when he said he would run out of tears if he kept it up. Of course, Blue was always right. _I’m such a baby bones_.

How far had they walked by now? Lost in thought and misery, Papyrus couldn’t be sure. Over time Waterfall started to blur together whether one was paying close attention or not. All he knew for sure was that his feet throbbed for mercy and he had a stitch pulling in his ribs that made it harder to breathe with every step…so that must mean they were making progress, right?

Blue had been babbling on for a while, filling the silence, but only now did Papyrus register what he was saying. “Gosh, I’m starving! We didn’t have any dinner or breakfast, huh? Are you hungry, Papy?”

Strangely he wasn’t. His nonexistent stomach panged with discomfort, yes, but not in the raw, empty way. All he mustered was a shrug. Blue hesitated, eyes flicking uncertainly over him, but after a long moment he tried for a smile regardless.

“I’m sure there’s something around here we could munch on for a while. Umm…” As he turned to examine the area, he no doubt saw the same things Papyrus had: grass, water, flowers, and crystals in every direction. To Papyrus’ surprise, however, he lit up. “Hey, those could be pretty tasty!”

“Hmm?”

“Well, they’re called water _sausages_ , aren’t they? Sausages are edible so if these go by the same name, they must be too!” With no further ado he snatched at the nearest group of new shoots, waving them wildly to rid them of droplets and pollen. Papyrus coughed, belatedly trying to muffle it in his sleeve as the cloud clogged the air and made his head spin.

Even the trash they had scavenged a couple of nights ago had been a little more appealing than muddy uprooted stalks. With some nausea he remembered the wet, mushy crab apple and the cracked bottle of fluid that was… _hopefully_ sea tea. Both had been bitter and acidic, rather difficult to swallow.

When he noticed his distaste, Blue didn’t hesitate to share his lucky find of a gloopy, half-smashed Nice Cream, insisting that it was too big to finish on his own. He was so cool. That sweeter flavor was long gone now; Papyrus could still taste the metallic tang from the upheaval earlier, lingering in the back of his throat.

No, he was definitely not hungry. Cradling his arms close to his chest, trying to get the tremors under better control, he coughed twice, thrice more and hung his head. Tuning Blue out as he peeled and crunched thoughtfully on the weeds, the younger focused instead on savoring the break from walking.

If he sat down he had a sneaking suspicion that he would forget he had to get up again. Now that they weren’t moving, he became fully aware of how moist and heavy the air felt as it crawled over him. There was no breeze this way. Why was he still shivering and swaying, as if a supposed wind might knock him over? Was that sweat, too, slithering down his back? That didn’t sound right. What was hot and what was cold?

 _Tired, tired, tired_ …

“Papyrus?”

Blue’s hands on him made him startle but it was too much effort to reel back upright. Murmuring something that might not have been made of real words, he let himself wilt and trusted that Blue would catch him. He did, though he didn’t give him an opportunity to go _entirely_ boneless. Hurriedly wrangling and propping loose limbs out of his way, Blue cupped his cheekbone.

“How are you still—? Never mind. I—I don’t think this is good for you, Papy, going hungry. You need something to keep your strength up!”

“Throat h’rts,” he mumbled, flinching away when he felt Blue nudge the end of the water sausage against his teeth. “Head h’rts.”

“Please, just a bite or two, alright? There’s only a little left and that’ll leave my hands free! I’ll be able to carry you.”

That deal didn’t sound half bad. Though his jaw ached from gritting for so long, he pried it open just enough that he could be fed. The stalk didn’t smell awful but it failed to belie the true sour taste. Suppressing a whine, he barely chewed before choking it down and absorbing Blue’s patting and praise.

It was more like six or seven bites before the stalk ended, the seventh going to waste as Papyrus coughed too roughly to swallow it. Nevertheless Blue kept his word, scooping him off his feet with surprising gentleness. Since Blue wouldn’t be running, all Papyrus could do was hope that this easier pace wouldn’t jar him into vomiting again. He fell asleep within the first thirty steps.

* * *

_Thick black fluid bubbled up from cracks in the ground, taking shape. Sticky, spindly hands were grabbing at him, their touch burning, their grasp so tight that his bones started to crack on contact._

_Sobbing and spitting, he thrashed to be free, phalanges snapping off his feet to be engulfed instantly. Somehow he ran—or swam—or was he drowning already?_

_The waves of blackness were overrunning the world. Trees and buildings and people were melting around him in every direction. As the hands gained purchase, they scaled the far walls. They would bring the mountain down on top of them!_

_“Sans, help me!”_

_He stood several yards ahead, motionless, with empty, gaping eye sockets—yet still he smiled, the blackness seeping between his bared teeth. Purring ominously in a language Papyrus knew he’d forgotten, he opened his stretched, warped arms for an embrace._

There was a voice somewhere beyond the pounding and crackling in his skull.

“—rus! Brother, it’s alright! You’re going to be alright. It’s over now…We’ve made it!” Familiar. Soothing, relief and hope.

When he broke the surface of his dream, he was only given a second’s glimpse to register—shapes, white, hurt, too _hot_ , too _much_ —before his eyelights rolled back in his head. Back arching, limbs flailing and locking wildly, he was hurled by momentum out of Blue’s arms into the snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At least it'll be a soft landing?
> 
> Also don't mind me projecting my own feelings about my chronic illness onto poor Pap. It's just nice having a character to relate to ^^"


	5. Chapter 5

“ _Papyrus!_ ”

Terror springing to his eye sockets, Blue rushed to his fallen brother, pawing helplessly at him as he convulsed raggedly across the ground. He wouldn’t be held, limbs twisting and skidding under Blue’s fingers as they were coated in slush and ice.

“Papyrus! Brother, what’s happening?! Stop, stop it, _stop it!_ ” Choking on a sob, he shoved away the nearest rocks embedded in the snow before Papyrus could smack his skull against them. “What do I—?! Please, somebody help!”

But nobody came. Blue glanced madly around at the empty street, shuttered windows and locked doors of the town. Dusk had fallen, citizens retreating to their homes and beds—

 _There!_ Several yards—what seemed like _miles_ —away, bluish-violet light streamed from a single shop’s windows, but how could he carry Papyrus there in this state? He could barely hold him down, much less up and across that distance as he tossed and turned.

_I’m sorry, I’m sorry!_

He left him behind, plowing through the snowdrifts with reckless abandon toward that one hope. Every scrambled, stumbling step away felt like a stab to the soul. Breaking his promise and for what? What if he found someone in there but they returned too late? What if he found Papyrus—? His only family, his only love in this world, his poor, sick, precious charge, he was supposed to _protect_ him—

He could barely see the shop door’s handle through his tears as he clambered to haul it open, slipping on the smooth linoleum tiles the moment he rushed inside. Though he landed roughly, the pain that shot through his bones only spurred another surge of desperation into his screams. “Help! Help me, please!”

“Oh, my!” Blue barely had time to register the voice before a pair of arms—two pairs?—were grabbing at him, pulling him onto shaking legs. An arachnid woman loomed over him, all of her black eyes baffled. “What has a bone hatchling bursting into my café? Who are you? I am about to close!”

“Please, my brother! He’s out there and he’s really sick and I don’t know what to do!” Heaving a strangled breath, he grabbed at her hands. “H-He’s shaking, he’s shaking so badly and he won’t answer me! You have to help him!”

“Did you hear what he said?” Another free arm lashed out at the coat rack near the door for her jacket. “Take me right there to him. Sick in Snowdin’s cold is nothing to spit at!”

Eight legs crossed the distance far faster than two. Papyrus was still thrashing as they reached him, though not with as much violence. Did that mean he was getting weaker? Blue sobbed as he snatched for his hand, only to be swatted away by the stranger.

She wasted no time in rolling Papyrus over on his side with two hands, steadying his skull with a third and prying open his mouth with the next. He choked, muffled, jaw straining as she dug out the half-packed snow he had inhaled so far.

“Is he—Is he falling down?!” Blue demanded wretchedly, his soul burning with the words as he hovered beside them.

“He’s fallen down already, dearie; he’s on the ground, you see,” she shot back, her literal sense startling him. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t get him back up again! How long since he began this dance?”

“Um, I don’t—Minutes? Just a few minutes! I-I couldn’t carry him, I couldn’t get to your shop fast enough!” Guilt and shame flooded his tear-streaked face. _Failure, weakness_. “Ma’am, what do I do?!”

“Nothing, nothing. He needs to end this on his own.”

“What?!”

“Just what I said! There’s no ‘doing’ for us until he shakes it all out himself,” she insisted, scooping up another stone that Blue had overlooked under the ice. “Can you count, child? Count the seconds down until it’s over.”

Almost every fiber of his being fought to argue, to reach out and pull Papyrus in to hold him steady. Instead he wiped furiously at his eye sockets, counting and praying. _Four, five…Stop it, Papy, please! Seven, eight, nine…I need you; you’re all I have! Eleven, twelve_ …

By the time he reached forty, Papyrus’ spasms were slowing to feebler tremors, followed by an unnerving stillness that made Blue stiffen. The spider woman, however, seemed satisfied.

“A round of applause now,” she tsked, carefully petting away the sweat marking Papyrus’ skull. “His dance is over.”

“But…he’s still not awake…”

“But can you blame him? He is exhausted now! It’s no easy feat to wake up fine and dandy when your whole body throws a tantrum against you.” As a whistling breeze stirred, she shuddered, curling a pair of arms around herself and another around Papyrus. “Oooh, huhu! Enough of this. Even if I can stand the cold, I don’t want to stand _in_ it! A heated parlor is what we need! Come with us.”

Again Blue struggled to keep up with her, leaping in long attempts to match her stride as she marched back toward her café with Papyrus dangling loosely in her grasp. She was hardly a tall or overtly muscular monster yet Blue had never seen Papyrus look so…bare and undersized against someone in comparison. He swallowed hard, feeling even smaller himself, and hurried to get ahead so he could open the door for her.

Now that his panic had settled into a more contained shellshock, Blue was able to take in his surroundings more clearly: checkered white-and-lavender tiles, cushioned purple booths, padded stools, and more cobwebs than the wall or table corners could contain. There were two doors to the back, large and small; he blinked numbly at the smaller.

 _You can’t go through the spider exit because you’re not a spider_.

The larger door had a thick mat of webbing at its base. “A guest wipes their feet before coming to my parlor,” the woman pointed out, tittering as Blue shuddered at the sticky texture under his toes. Impolite as it was, he then scuffed his feet on the carpet he found further inside.

Her parlor was dimmer than the front, dotted with small lights on the walls that looked strangely like her eyes. She had no bed, merely a webbed, curtained hammock that she settled Papyrus into before gesturing to a nearby stool.

“I—I can stand, ma’am,” Blue offered hollowly.

“Don’t be silly! You have only two legs.”

The adrenaline was dying down at last. Blue took a breath, opened his mouth to continue protest—and a crushing cascade of exhaustion shook through every bone. For a moment it felt as if his magic blinked off and then back on, like a dying lightbulb. When it returned, he was planted firmly on the stool and the spider woman was scuttling back to the front room.

When she returned, all of her hands were full. A bucket of water, sponges, a jug and a tray gave off a multitude of mingling aromas that made it hard to suppress a sneeze.

“Thank you,” Blue mustered instead, voice cracking. “Thank you so much for your kindness. I don’t know what Papyrus and I would have done without you.”

“Something wrong, no doubt,” she remarked without malice, ignoring or perhaps unnoticing Blue’s flinch. “You would have made his dance so much worse trying to help!”

“I…” If that was the case, he didn’t want to think on it. “Thank you.” He wasn’t sure what else to say.

“Mmm, I can give you more to thank me for!” As she began dipping the sponges in the water, she swept the tray and the jug toward him on either side. “Would you care for a pastry? Spider cider?”

The rubbery donuts and croissants were glazed and powdered with exorbitant amounts of honey, frosting and sugar that could make even a child blanch. Indeed, Blue’s first instinct was to decline; his gloves would be sticky and his teeth would suffer, but the water sausages seemed so long ago that he was getting lightheaded. Moreover, it would be rude to turn down her hospitality.

“Yes, I knew you would!” she exclaimed as he pried a donut from the pile. “That will be thirty G.”

He choked halfway through his bite, unsure if it was worse to spit it out or swallow it as he stammered, “What?! I—no, I’m—We don’t have that kind of money!”

“Oh, stingy, are you? Tsk. Well, how about this? Since you are a new customer, I’ll give you a discount: You pay by telling me what two little bone hatchlings are doing here, where they’ve never been seen before. Where do bone hatchlings come from?” Papyrus mumbled and twitched as she patted one of the sponges against his neck, the others under his arms. “Hotland? This one burns hot enough.”

Fidgeting, Blue reached for the cider to chase down the donut’s sickly sweetness. “Um, maybe? I know we had a house but…we lost it. Or maybe it lost us. We don’t remember where it is so we decided—” _I decided_. “—it would be better to make a new home here.”

“My, oh, my! Who is this ‘we’? You call the brother Papyrus, so what do you call you?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think of introducing myself. That’s awfully rude. My name is Sans. What…What do _you_ call you, ma’am?”

“Ahuhuhu, I must need a bigger, brighter sign out front! I will budget for that. I call myself and my café Muffet. Welcome!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the abrupt ending; I had to break this chapter in half because it was getting too long. This is my first time writing Muffet so if it seems odd or out of character, that's why. Of course she is an oddball anyway XD
> 
> On another note, febrile convulsions (fever seizures)! You've just got to treat them like other kinds of seizures: put them on their side, remove objects they could hurt themself on, take stuff out of their mouth so they don't choke, and wait it out. Muffet's got the right idea


	6. Chapter 6

“Are hatchling bones meant to look so yellow and frail? Take another pastry, dearie,” Miss Muffet advised, nudging the tray back at him. Blue sniffed, a little indignant, but he accepted another croissant nevertheless.

“I’m not frail at all! In fact, my bones are hardy and strong and rather magnificent,” he informed her as he tore off a piece, excess honey dripping from it in globs and strings. “I carried my brother most of the way here.”

“Oh ho, but you do not stop along the way for a doctor? The strength of little Papyrus-like bones is not important too?” Blue reeled back slightly as two of her five eyes gave him a sideways glance. What was she implying?

“Of course it is. That’s why I brought him here as fast as I could, so he could cool down!”

“Ahuhuhu, cold does not help a cold, silly thing! Why do you think little Papyrus was dancing out there? Snow and ice make the heat inside cook faster! Shiver and shake, quiver and quake, until the heat becomes too much and has to rattle right out of his bones! He didn’t get all of it, still some leftovers boiling.” Tutting, she resoaked the sponges to tuck against the younger skeleton’s ribs. “This is why I’m mopping him up! Let sit at room temperature so he can cool properly.”

“Wait, I—I don’t understand,” Blue whispered, despite the nausea slugging through him which indicated otherwise. “So his fit out there…Did I do that to him by bringing him here?”

“Ahh, accidents will happen.”

Her blasé tone only made the words worse. It hadn’t been an accident; he had brought him here purposefully, knowing already that he was ill. Light draining from his sockets, Blue dropped the croissant, pressing sticky gloves to his face. “Oh, stars…Oh, _stars_ , I did this to him! I thought I was making him better, I thought—! How could I—?!”

 _Failure, idiot. You hurt him and then you abandoned him in the snow while he was lost and in pain. How could you? You’re dreadful! You made everything worse for him! You don’t deserve_ —

“Sans? Look and listen here, you.” A third hand on his face made him jump, biting back a mortified whimper as Miss Muffet brought his chin up. Her expression wasn’t entirely sympathetic but it didn’t hold quite as much judgment either. “Did you hear what I said? Accidents will happen. Hatchlings don’t know, so they don’t think until they are taught…and you don’t have any teachers, do you?”

Blue gulped against a lump in his throat.

“Where are your parents, child? In the nest you lost?”

Parents, plural. Memories of Dad were fleeting enough. Memories of a mother? When he looked back, he could grasp nothing about her at all.

“I suppose so,” he managed at last, not daring to blink lest any tears fall. He focused on his reflection in Miss Muffet’s dark eyes, admitting the truth to it. “We lost him—or them—when we lost the house. We should have known how to get back. It’s my fault, I can’t remember.”

“If you can’t remember, how do you remember it’s your fault?”

“It—It was my _job_ to remember!” How could he know that either? It was just a feeling. He was the big kid so obviously he was to be trusted with the responsibility of recalling…whatever he was meant to recall. It was supposed to make sense.

“Huh! Well, if that’s so, it was your parents’ job to teach you better how to remember! Shame on them for misplacing you before doing so.” Huffing, she turned her attention to the fallen croissant. “Accidents, waste. My mother never let anything go to waste. Not food, not time. She carries me on her back until I’m grown and ready, and your mother goes unbothered? She makes you carry your own brother here from a home you don’t know? What shame. It’s no wonder bone hatchlings are only a myth.”

“A myth? Like a legend?”

“You and your brother are only you. Have you ever made friends with another? Have you ever _seen_ another bone child your age?”

“No, I don’t think so. Are there many spiders like you?”

“Ahuhuhu! Two or two thousand live in the Ruins and Hotland! Cousins, brothers, sisters. Sad, my business is bad there. Grillby and his firecrackers are burning down the industry, but Snowdin puts their flames out. I am the only one strong enough to survive this cold, so my family sent me here to find better customers.”

“But…how is that any better than our parents? They lost us. After all that time raising you, your parents _sent_ you away? I’m sorry, that sounds very lonely.”

Muffet opened her mouth. She closed it. She opened it again. “It’s my job to be here, like it’s your job to remember, you say. And we have telegrams.”

“It still sounds difficult, and sad, and not what I’d ever want. I may not see any other skeletons but Papyrus is all I need. Just one brother to keep me company is better in my mind than having none. If he ever sent me away…Gosh, now I know why he hates the thought of being left behind. I bet your brothers miss you.”

At that Miss Muffet looked more than a little shaken, though she glanced away so he wouldn’t examine it too closely. Blue didn’t inquire any further. The idea of being without Papyrus for _any_ reason, now or as a grownup, was enough to make his shoulders hunch and his soul shudder. How close had this illness brought them to that reality already?

“That fit he had…Is that normal? Could that ever happen again?”

Gladly she latched onto the subject change. “If you want it to, if you do not?”

“N-No, I don’t! I never want to see that happen again!”

“The little bones dance when they need to dance; there is nothing you can do to stop it once it starts. Using foresight—” Four of her eyes blinked demonstratively. “—you try to see that he is not this sick again!”

“How did you know what to do when you saw him? Or not do?”

“Some spiders are not raised as strong as I. Some mothers did not prepare them for the world.” Her bucket sloshed wildly as she set it on the floor with a sharp clank. Blue flinched as she spun toward him, agitatedly tossing her head. “This world isn’t kind to _my_ kind. Many of my brothers, sisters, cousins look for treats and find sweet poison left for them. They squirm and shake like this little bone and only some live to finish the dance.”

Blue’s eye sockets were as huge as saucers. “They…?”

She didn’t give him time to finish the thought, her next words brusque. “That comes to mind, what has the little bone down like this? This heat is brought on by something. Has he been looking for treats? Nibbled something _unsavory?_ ”

“We last ate some water sausages on our way here but he came down with it before; he didn’t even _want_ to eat until I fed him by hand,” he murmured. “I tried to offer him part of that quiche I found under the bench we slept on but he wasn’t hungry for that either. We left it. Before that…Oh! We were foraging. We found a Nice Cream to share. That truly was a treat!”

“And you are not sick from that but your Papyrus is?” She peered closer, giving his forehead a tentative pet for a temperature. “That makes less than sense.”

“You’re right. If it was that, I should be sick too. Maybe I _was_ meant to catch it but it couldn’t catch me, so it caught Papy instead. He’s always been a bit fragile, sensitive.” A humorless laugh escaped him. “He even choked on that soft Nice Cream. Lucky he’d found a bottle of sea tea to wash it down!”

“Tsk. Sea tea doesn’t come in bottles, dearie, it comes in boxes.”

“Really? You’re sure? That can’t be right. If that wasn’t sea tea, then what did he—?” He stiffened, eye sockets growing impossibly wider. “What did he drink? It was in that bottle. The bottle had cracks. It had spilled, it was all over that crab apple he tried before I found the Nice Cream! What was that?!”

“Well, describe its looks for me! Labels, liquids?”

“The label was torn! The liquid looked…green, I think.”

“Sea tea is _blue_ , Sans, blue like the _sea_.”

“I-It doesn’t come in different flavors?!”

“Ai, Arachne!” Pressing a hand to her face, Miss Muffet shook Blue’s shoulder with another. “Has the little bone brought it up again?”

“No, we left after we ate! We didn’t talk about it. I didn’t think about it again, he seemed fine at first but—”

“Silly, silly, _listen!_ Has he brought it _up_ again? Spitting, spewing?”

“Oh, h-he was sick to his stomach twice! It was worse the second time.” Scrambling off the stool, he grabbed at her arm. “Is that really bad? Is it going to make him worse? What did he drink?!”

“Your Papyrus left the bottle behind? Where is there?”

“On the far end of Waterfall, b-by the second east river! An old monster lives there and we sorted through his trash. It wasn’t the first time; we try not to scavenge in the same place too often, overstay our welcome, and he yelled after us the first time but he had so much of it! Sharing is caring and if he threw it out, I didn’t think he would miss it too terribly! Miss Muffet—”

“I’ll string a telegram through the web to my cousins in Waterfall,” she announced, bustling back toward the door. “Stay with the little bone, mop him up—and don’t look so blue. If I know much of what I know, he should be up, groggy and grumpy soon, and the last thing he needs is to see your face frightened.”


	7. Chapter 7

“ _Papyrus? Can you hear me?_ ”

“ _Are you listening?_ ”

“ _We’re safe; we got help. You can really get better here, so…that means you can come out now. It’s time for you to wake up, okay?_ ”

That was the last thing Papyrus wanted to hear. After what felt like centuries of _white_ and _hot_ and _too much_ , the darkness that had enveloped him was so merciful, a true comfort. He didn’t want to be lured out of it now, no matter how sweet and hopeful that voice may sound.

His skull was heavy, a dull beat plodding behind his dark eye sockets, and his sensitive bones stung under the soft, meticulous touches mapping him. The touch was distant yet familiar; he couldn’t quite latch onto its source. Perhaps the hand and the whispers belonged to the same person?

“ _Please, I need you to wake up_.”

 _I don’t want to_ , he wanted to throw back. He tried, in fact, but all he could muster was a slurred grumble. The waking world sounded like such a chore; he would be just as exhausted there as he was here in the black. Why did it matter? _Just leave me alone_.

His attempt to speak seemed to have the opposite effect; rather than pull away, the next touch was more forceful, gripping expectantly, eagerly, and the voice was so much closer.

“ _Papy?_ ”

Well, there was only one person who called him that—and try as he might, he could never say no to him for long. Though his will and body continued to resist, his awareness stirred. His sockets felt sore and dry as pale eyelights sputtered on, peering blearily through the fog.

“Brother!” The stars that ignited in Blue’s eyes were dazzling as he dragged Papyrus upright into a near-strangling hug. “Bless you, you’re awake! I—I knew you could find your way back to us! I knew you could all along!”

Biting back a groan, Papyrus made an attempt to squirm and only managed a twitchy shudder. He hadn’t expected to sit up so fast; spots blinked across his field of vision. Jaw clenching where it was ineptly smushed against Blue’s shoulder, he heaved a sluggish, nauseated breath. His magic churned. He didn’t want to throw up on him again!

“S-Spinning…”

“This is wonderful! You’re sure to get better soon now! We’ll find out exactly what did this to you and there’s certain to be a cure. She’ll figure it out, she’s an adult so obviously she’s very wise and smart and she’s going to help and make everything alright again!”

“Sa-a-ans! Too _loud_ , too much,” he whined, fingers awkwardly grabbing at the outline of Blue’s ribs to push him away. “M’tired…”

“And as soon as you’re back on your feet, we’ll—Oh. Oh.” Though he had wasted no time or effort pulling away from his resting place, Blue shifted with much more care when laying him back down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

If he was honest, Papyrus could have dropped back to sleep as soon as his skull found the pillows again, if it weren’t for the twinge of discomfort he felt when he noticed Blue’s smile wiped away. Sniffing, he curled deeper into the hammock and averted his eyes. By instinct he lifted his hands to his mouth, muffling a crackly cough before gnawing tiredly on the edges of his phalanges.

Blue seemed startled by the reappearance of the old self-soothing habit, opening his mouth to scold him and then thinking better of it. Instead he cleared his throat. “Papy, do you, um, remember what happened before? When we got here?”

“Uh-uh. When I try to think, s’all…” Squinting uncertainly, he muttered around a knucklebone. “…hot and fuzzy.”

Perhaps he didn’t want to remember. The nightmare of inky blackness he had was the last clear image in his mind, a dozen times sharper than anything that came before or after, and that was already disturbing enough. Still, it wasn’t comfortable having an empty gap in his time either. What had he missed?

“Nngh…m’head hurts.”

Taking up one of the sponges, Blue dunked it back in the bucket. Papyrus jerked on first contact but otherwise didn’t resist as his brother drizzled tepid water over the crown of his head. It was a relief against the heat that permeated him and made the hammock tacky against his spine.

Despite their close proximity Blue didn’t look at him directly, his gaze following the sponge’s course as if it was incredibly interesting. “I made it worse for you,” he murmured, any trace of his former joy fading. “I had no idea that cold baths were unhealthy for sick people! I put you in the river even when you said it was hurting you. Like needles, you said. Why didn’t I listen? Then I just let you keep walking.”

“Said I wanted to…”

“I should’ve said no! I didn’t know! I thought cos you said that, you were feeling _stronger_ but I was…very wrong. When we got here, Papy, you fell.” The sponge juddered in his hand. “You fell on the ground and started shaking so badly and I couldn’t make it stop!”

“S-Shakin’?” Perhaps that was why he felt strangely bruised. Even as Blue explained it, however, no memory formed to follow.

“You were jerking your arms and legs everywhere, like you couldn’t control them anymore, and I couldn’t hold onto you. Apparently it was the fever trying to…escape your body? It was meant to help somehow and it probably won’t happen again. Stars, I hope not.

“I checked you a little while ago. The fit didn’t do anything to your HP but from the outside it looked horrible! I thought something _awful_ was going to happen to you. I was so scared! And…And it’s all my fault for not keeping you in Waterfall to rest. And if resting didn’t help, we could have found someone there to help us, a doctor, _someone_. Instead it only went from bad to worse.”

Papyrus’ fingers stung as he bit down harder, guilt and misery flushing through him in a deep burn. “Sans.” His voice was small. “M’sorry…Please don’t be sad, okay? S’my fault. _I_ was bad. I told you a lie.”

“You…What?”

“I didn’t wanna walk but I still said I did. I made you believe me. That’s why it got bad; s’my punishment for lying.”

“What?” he stammered again. “But why would you do that? You know lying is wrong!”

“I kno-o-ow! I just…” _Don’t cry_. “…didn’t wanna be too slow. You wanted t’get here really fast and I didn’t want you t’get mad that we stopped so long and…and maybe…”

“Leave you behind?” Papyrus shrank as Blue’s shoulders slumped in bewildered hurt. “But I already told you I wouldn’t, brother! I promised! Don’t you believe me?”

A whimper trickled from his throat before he could catch it, followed by a slew of hitched coughs. Blue winced as he bent over him to pat his back, shushing and soothing with meaningless syllables that made Papyrus’ head buzz.

“I’m messed up,” he croaked, barely intelligible behind his palms. “S-Something’s wrong with me…Why can’t I be strong like you are? If I was strong, I wouldn’t be scared so much! Why am I like this?!”

“I’m not sure,” Blue admitted haltingly. He wasn’t fond of making admissions like that in front of Papyrus; he shook his head against it, eye sockets narrowing. “But I don’t care either. Even though you’re fragile, there are still plenty of dazzling, magnificent things about you!”

“Uh-uh.”

“There is too! You’re my brother, after all, and that means you inherited some of my greatness! You’re good and kind and funny—when you’re not telling those knock-knock jokes—and you have the biggest soul in the whole Underground! You can sing, you’re good at hide-and-seek, you always find the most interesting river rocks, you learn numbers and sums in a snap…”

As he rambled on, Papyrus swallowed against a scratchy weight in his throat, peeking up through his fingers. Did he really mean those things or was he only making it up to be nice? That would be Blue all around; he was nice no matter what, even to his bad, weak brother.

“Someday I’ll come up with a list of a _hundred_ things that are good about you!” Blue concluded determinedly. “And if there is something wrong with you, you can get better if you really try! I can help you—but only if you don’t lie to me. We can’t make it work if we don’t trust each other. You understand?”

“Yeah…M’sorry.”

“I forgive you. And I’ll make you my promise again. With both of us remembering it, it will be stronger this time.” Squeezing Papyrus’ shoulder, he enunciated clearly. “I, the great and magnificent Sans, solemnly swear that I will never, ever leave you. No matter what tries to get in our way—sicknesses, rivers, snowstorms, or heck, even one of those nasty humans in the old stories.”

Papyrus’ soul swelled with a low, achy warmth that he couldn’t properly put into words yet. “You’re so cool,” he whispered.

“Mweheh, I know. And if I’m going to teach you how to be half as cool as I am, we have to stick together.”

For the first time in days, Papyrus managed a weak but true smile as he reached out, strumming the strings of the intricate web forming the hammock. “Heh… _Stick_ together. It's sticky…”

“Wha—?! Ugh, Papyrus, _no!_ That’s even worse than a knock-knock joke!”

“Hehe…” The darkness was returning to creep up his back, still hot-and-cold yet softer than it had before. He had a brief moment to pluck the web one more time, making sure that his limbs were still under his control. _No more shaking_. “Don’t…get scared, m’kay? But I think m’gonna sleep some more…”

He drifted to the sound of Sans’ soft sigh. “Okay. Thank you for the warning this time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stock up on some naptime, kid, you've earned it.
> 
> Yet again this was supposed to be the last chapter but it had a mind of its own XD I'll get to a conclusion in the next one, I'm sure!


	8. Chapter 8

Though she had none of her own, Muffet had always liked little hatchlings. Not only were they cute, they were good for business; she rarely ever had trouble selling her wares and making loyal customers out of them. She loved the days when a brood of boisterous bunnies would come storming in, each with their meticulously counted coins to clean out her display case. All of their lively clamoring and chatter amused her. It reminded her of better days.

She would mentally swat herself whenever that thought arose. These _were_ her better days, here and now! She was a working woman, making a living for herself and her family. She was making herself useful! Why would she even bother to think back on the days when her brothers showed her the best places to chase and tease whimsuns? When her sisters taught her how to make vast, intricate art out of her webs? When her mother would pet her head as she did up her hair with ribbons and bows and told her how lovely she was?

Yes, these days, alone in Snowdin, were…better for everyone.

Muffet ought to send them another telegram soon so she could put these things out of her mind.

The bone hatchlings served as a pleasant distraction. Now that the ugly concoction he drank was finally purging from his body, little Papyrus was on the mend.

Muffet’s soul still burned and her hands curled in fury at the thought of that old monster who had done this to him—no matter how accidental. When her cousins in Waterfall had received her news about a poisoned hatchling, they had wasted no time. They had surrounded and cornered the brute with threats and demands.

“I never saw them well enough! T-These old eyes are almost blind!” he had stammered. “I thought they were wild animals, an infestation waiting to happen, so I poured out some bottled bait! It was expired, it—it shouldn’t have done too much harm! Just enough to drive them off.” Swallowing hard at their low hisses of disdain, he shrank in on himself. “How was I to suspect? No _children_ should be the ones rooting through my trash, right? They s-should be at home, safe, with their parents! H-How was I to know?!”

Spiders had no incredible fondness for baiters, poisoners or pest control. Muffet didn’t truly believe that her cousins would kill a monster for that slight unless it was against their own kind…but deep down, she wouldn’t have felt particularly sorry if they had.

Regardless, they had sent back the specifications of the bait he had used. Unfortunately it was one Muffet had plenty of familiarity with, though it came with the helpful byproduct of knowing precisely which medicine could combat it.

It was a medicine intended for spiders; she was unsure how it would affect bone hatchlings but Papyrus was already as frail as a fly. Could a remedy endowed with healing magic make him any sicker? In the end she simply added a splash of milk and gave it over.

Sans was more than happy to assist when Papyrus groaned and refused to take it. “Come on, champ! It may taste bad on the way down but it’s got a lot of good things for you. It’s going to make you better! _Stronger!_ ” His smile didn’t wane but it certainly changed. “That’s what you want, isn’t it, to be strong and capable like me? This will do that.”

Muffet sensed she was missing something important between them when Papyrus’ hands shot out for the cup with no more hesitation. His expression of disgust was wrenching as he gagged it down but nevertheless he persisted, spurred on by his brother’s cheers of relief and delight. Of course, he brought about half of it back up just a few minutes later; it was meant to be sipped, not guzzled.

“The next cup will come with a little _digestif_ , sweetling—a spoonful of honey should smooth things over,” Muffet promised, patting his cheek. At first contact he flinched and kept his mouth shut until Sans lightly nudged him, prompting.

“…Papy?”

“Um. Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am. M’sorry for the mess,” he murmured, eye sockets falling dim and soft as he rested his skull against her palm.

Stars. The sight brought on a rush of affectionate warmth, followed by the instinct not to pull away, followed by confusion. Had she called him “sweetling”? She couldn’t recall saying that to any of the other children before. Her hand was uncertain as she ran a thumb over his cheekbone. Beside him, Sans looked on with a distant, wistful glow in his eyes, leaning his head into his own hand as if by instinct.

_Did your parents ever spare you a kindness? Did they remind you that you were loved? If they did, do you even remember it?_

_Shame, shame on them for misplacing you_.

The honey was magic in and of itself; in fact, Papyrus was completely enamored with it now. Within three days he was drinking more honey than milk, much to Sans’ dismay. Milk was being treated with almost the same base prejudice as medicine!

“He needs calcium, not this unhealthy, unwholesome sugar rot; his magic will crystalize!” Sans exclaimed, only to flounder at the pointed stare Muffet gave him. “I—It isn’t—What I _mean_ to say is that—Thank you very much for our _tasteful_ dessert, Miss Muffet! But…um…”

“I’ll whisk the honey into the milk, dearie.”

“Yes! Yes, that would be wonderful. T-Thank you kindly!”

If Muffet set Sans’ opinions on “sugar rot” aside, she could admit that he was great for business. Once Papyrus started noticeably improving, able to sit up in the hammock and hold a plate on his own, Sans became a little more willing to stray from his side and mingle with the customers—and they with him. Whenever a new child was born in the Underground, it was the word around town. Now this, a strange skeleton child appearing out of nowhere? An attraction, a novelty! The shop had more visitors in the last week than she had the three weeks prior.

Sans reveled in the attention. It seemed he had craved a listening ear for a long, long time and now he had them in abundance. He would chatter at the visitors from the moment they opened the door to the moment they closed it behind them, though he cheerfully and blatantly dodged any questions about home or his parents—and the moment he overheard so much as a ragged cough from the backroom, away he went, leaving Muffet to fend off the rest of their questions.

“Is there someone else back there?”

“How long are they staying with you, Muffet?”

“Where did they really come from?”

“Are they, um, yours…somehow?”

That last question both irritated and flustered her. Oh, of course, of course they were hers because it made such savvy sense that a _spider_ could somehow breed _bone brothers!_ Perfectly preposterous. But there was a little buzz in the back of her head, niggling, and it stung.

Children belonged to or with _someone_ …and if Sans’ and Papyrus’ someone(s) were unsuitable, where did they belong?

Together, first and foremost. The first day that Papyrus could move from the hammock to one of the padded booths in the front, his presence was like honey to the flies. It turned to vinegar as soon as a group crowded around him and he shrank, wheezing, into the corner, bones rattling like Muffet’s tip jar. It was the first and only time she saw Sans’ eyes black out as he shouldered through them to sit and gather Papyrus against his side.

“You see, brother? They love you, they all want to be your friends!” he cooed, staring fixedly up at the curious onlookers. “And friends should all care, share and _take their turn_ , so my brother can appreciate every single one of you on your own!” His cheery tone didn’t falter, but his eyelights didn’t rekindle right away either.

No, that was a web that couldn’t be unraveled. As Sans affectionately ran a hand over Papyrus’ skull, Muffet examined a particularly shiny piece of gold and pretended not to wish on it for her mother.

She wasn’t resting well in her hammock this night. Since Papyrus joined Sans now, sleeping in one of the corner booths, she had stripped the old one she had lent him and spun a fresh one. It was comfortable enough to serve, so why were her thoughts tangled up this way?

“ _We had a house but…we lost it._ ”

“ _It would be better to make a new home here_.”

It wouldn’t be long before they left her to fend for themselves. How had that turned out for them in the first place? Pain, illness, panic. Make a new home, they said. Did they have any idea what that would truly entail?

“ _Hatchlings don’t know, so they don’t think until they are taught…and you don’t have any teachers, do you?_ ”

Muffet had enough trouble on her own when she came to town. Scraping up the gold to make it through the first six months had nearly broken her back.

“ _We don’t have that kind of money!_ ”

Though he should be in school, Sans could probably… _hopefully_ work. His infectious charm could win people over to give him odd jobs, Muffet was sure. But where would that leave Papyrus? Not old enough, not strong enough, waiting somewhere for his brother to return. Muffet would have to be blind in three of her eyes to miss how he reacted whenever Sans was gone too long. The separation anxiety he felt was crushing.

“ _Just one brother to keep me company is better in my mind than having none_.”

Muffet heaved a shaky breath. She could feel it crushing her now, in ways she thought she had trained herself to ignore. She missed her family awfully, yes, but if everything here came crashing down, she _always_ had the last resort of returning to the nest. The family would welcome her back with open arms and legs. Where could the bone brothers go in the wild? They had no nest to scurry back to.

Hers was the first safe refuge they had found. They knew they were safe here in ways they couldn’t be out there. Odd jobs wouldn’t be enough for a table, much less for food to put on it. If they had to go back to scavenging and Papyrus came down sick again—Arachne forbid _Sans_ falling ill—it could be over for them in a matter of months.

 _No, they…they’ve managed this long, only one and two. They could keep on. Somehow_.

 _But no child should_ have _to_.

“ _My mother carries me on her back until I’m grown and ready, and your mother goes unbothered?_ ”

 _Shame_.

Muffet didn’t end up finding any rest. Instead she rolled out of her hammock, put her hair up and scuttled to her desk, spreading her meticulous finance logs out in front of her.

It didn’t take long to see that with the new boom the boys’ mere existence gave to her business, it was workable. Projecting for the next…decade?

“Two bone hatchlings. Tsk,” she muttered, fangs tugging into a slight smile. “Mother’s carried ten, twenty, fifty and some. What are one and two?”

 _That’s if the one and two say yes_.

* * *

“Miss Muffet, I didn’t know you sold clothes here too!” Sans laughed as he poked his hand through the sleeve of a blue-striped shirt. “Though I don’t think this would fit many of the adults who shop here—mweheheh, especially not after eating your sweets!”

“Blue? This one’s…kind of my size,” Papyrus piped up cautiously, though he held it away from his body so as not to assume. Sans’ smile waned slightly as his eyes darted between the tatty shirt hanging from his brother’s back to the vibrant comparison in his hands.

“Well, um…I’m sure it’d look great on you, Papy, but it—it’d be rude! Yeah! Trying on her merchandise would be like taking a bite out of a donut and then putting it back! We can’t do that.”

“It’s not merchandise, dearie, but…mmm, yes. You will pay me for it regardless.” Both of them cringed, Sans hurriedly flinging the blue one back at the bag, but before he could form a protest, Muffet sighed with exasperated fondness. “Pay me by wearing them down, would you? So I know I didn’t deal for it as a laughing matter but as a gift instead.”

For once, Sans was silent.

“A…gift?” Papyrus echoed, voice cracking as his fingers curled tighter into the soft cloth. Little by little it was bunched into small, possessive folds in his lap. “A gift…for us?”

“Would I be such a poor host, inviting you into my parlor for all this time without presenting party favors? Don’t think so small of me,” she tutted.

“Ma’am.” Sans’ shoulders were sagging and his voice was softer than Muffet had ever heard it. “You’ve already done too much for us. Helping me get Papy better is more than I can thank you for. I…” Something like guilt seemed to sting him. “I…can’t repay you. Ever.”

“My, oh, my. If that’s what you think, let me make an easy barter with you: for all that I have done for you, you do a small something for me. You stay safe by staying here.” She ignored their stunned gasps, pressing on surely. “You learn from me. I’ll not have the shame of misplacing any hatchlings before their time and teaching.”

“Miss Muffet…”

“You’ll make a new home here, just as you planned, but you and only you aren’t always enough. Don’t say you don’t know. You were lost; now you’re found.” Her eyes softened as she glanced between them. “Aren’t your little feet tired of walking alone?”

Papyrus squeaked, lifting the new shirt to bury his face in it, and Sans’ tiny nod came with a quiver in his jaw.

“I’m not your mother, sweetlings. But if she isn’t going to stand on her two measly feet, it’s the job of a working woman with eight to make herself useful. Let me carry you for a while. Stay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that, I finally manage to conclude this story and the Swap bros' journey to Snowdin (though I'm sure they have plenty of adventures with Muffet to look forward to in the future)! I hope you enjoyed ^^


End file.
